


Rain and Hats

by UzbekistanRules



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 04:20:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7085476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UzbekistanRules/pseuds/UzbekistanRules
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>McCree and Hanzo work together. Hanzo takes offense to McCree's odor and state of dress. McCree takes offense to Hanzo. Things happen in the rain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rain and Hats

**Author's Note:**

> I don't play Overwatch. I barely know any of these characters. And yet here I am, writing a somewhat shippy crack story for them.
> 
> You did this. You know who you are.

The rain always seemed endless in Hanzo's eyes.  
It wasn't really- he knew it logically- but when it was days of gray skies and the pitter patter of rain on his head, he tended to get morose. McCree stared at the rain like he could never get enough of it. Maybe he couldn't. Maybe he was trying to wash the blood off of himself in a more spiritual way. Monks tended to sit under waterfalls. Maybe this was McCree's waterfall.  
The rain stopped hitting Hanzo's hair as the stench of unwashed body came behind him. "Thought a feller like you could use an umbrella. Ain't got one though. Thought m'hat would do jes fine though."  
"I would appreciate it if you at least washed it once in a while. And the hat as well." The archer looked behind him. Indeed, the gunslinger was close. Too close for comfort. He could almost feel those itchy fingers on him.  
"Sayin' I stink? Okay pot."  
"What?" The sniper had never heard that expression before.  
"... Kettle callin' the pot black? Ain't heard that one before? Basically I'm sayin' you stink too."  
"Unlike you, I took a bath this morning. Exertion has made me sweat. I will take another bath tonight."  
"What about me?! I've been runnin' and rollin' just as much as you have! More even!" McCree was getting angry. Surely if Hanzo looked further, he could see the other's face turning red.  
"I haven't seen you change one article of clothing in three days. The enemy doesn't need to listen for your footsteps. They can smell you coming a mile off."  
"Oh yeah? What if I'm changin' in secret?"  
"I doubt it," Hanzo replied calmly. He was about to say something else when something grabbed his rear. He yelped in surprise and whirled around, out in the rain once again. McCree was wearing an insufferably smug grin. Well- fine. Two could play this game.  
The gunslinger hadn't expected Hanzo to come towards him, charging him like Winston or Zarya. Unlike those two, Hanzo was much faster and before he knew it, his precious hat was stolen. The sniper held it aloft, hand where his head used to be.   
"Huh? HEY!" Hanzo was light on his feet, running down the nearly deserted street until he found a path up to the roofs. McCree gave chase, but he was far too slow and didn't want to use Peacekeeper on an ally.  
"Gomen ne. It looks like you have to take the stairs."   
There was an undertone of mockery that infuriated McCree. "I don't think you're go- go- whatever you said! If yer sayin' sorry, say it by giving me my hat back!"  
"I wonder if I could become a kasa-obake with this..." McCree heard the other mutter before walking away from the edge of the rooftop. By the time he got up to the roof levels Hanzo was gone. Faded into the background like a mirage in the middle of the desert heat.  
"CONSARNIT!!" He reached up for his hat to remember suddenly it wasn't there any more. He just had to settle for making useless gestures and stomping his foot like a child.

Three days. Three days without his precious hat. Three days where he forgot time and time again that he didn't have it. The sun glared down because the brim didn't protect him. The rain beat down on his face and hair. He couldn't tip his hat to the few female types that he saw. And he had seen hide nor hair of Hanzo in those three days. Jesse McCree was in a mood and those who broke the laws were in for a more severe punishment than what was strictly necessary.  
And then on the fourth day a box appeared in the room he was staying in. It was wrapped in butcher's paper and had a bow of simple twine around it. All checks for poisons or explosives or anything of the sort returned negative. Opening it... he found his hat. He knew it was his hat. There was only one like it in the world but... It seemed new. All of the scuff marks had been buffed out. The band around it had been replaced, but every bit of metal on it was meticulously set in the correct place so only the owner knew how off center they were. It smelled like saddle soap and a conditioner that he couldn't immediately identify. Turning it over, someone had installed a new sweat band and liner. The silk was nice, though the sweatband seemed to be in a pattern that confused his eye. The rest of the box contained what was left of the saddle soap and conditioner with a note.

_Hatless cowboy, here._   
_Your pride and joy. Clean. Mended_   
_Where necessary. -島田半蔵_

"...." McCree didn't know what to say. So he said nothing, but shoved the hat on his head. Damn, it felt good to have it back on again.


End file.
